you've got me stuck in the middle
by frmlss
Summary: It was always either black or white; then Sebastian Smythe came around and suddenly Santana found herself stuck somewhere in the shade of gray.


**A/N: Duh. Shipping Sebtana so hard it hurts. I'm sorry for how OOC all those characters are, it could possibly even be an AU fic if you look at it that way.**

**Disclaimer: Glee's not mine. If it was Sebtana would already be canon.**

* * *

><p><strong>i.<strong>

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What was this? No, she wasn't supposed to feel like this, she wasn't supposed to be turned on by any other person than Brittany. Hell, she wasn't supposed to be turned on by a fucking guy. A _gay_ guy.

But damn, that voice of his' did things to her. In her head it still kept playing on, even after they stopped singing, nose to nose almost. _Annie, are you okay?_

She held the eye-contact like the proud woman she was, fiercely and strong. But even she noticed that her breathing was rough. (And so was his'.)

She was so close to smacking the fuck outta him when he smirked down at her.

"I'd call it a tie."

She snorted and turned on her heel, looking over her shoulder as she circled the chairs. She still held the gaze.

Why didn't she just break it?

"Listen flat-face", she instead answered, "Don't mess with Blaine, are we clear? Or I will go all Lima Heights on you and that won't be pretty."

It drove her insane when he crossed his arms and laughed. "I'm not scared of you, _darling_. "

Suddenly she drove closer to him again, causing him to back off a little.

"Or are you?", she asked back and raised an eyebrow.

"Weren't you supposed to be gay?"

Santana narrowed her eyes. "Says you."

Sebastian shrugged carelessly. "Who likes to put labels on stuff?"

She just turned around and left him alone in the room, slamming the door behind her.

It wasn't until she reached the parking lot that she realized she still didn't breathe properly, the striking pit in her stomach still existent and asking for satisfaction.

She decided it's just imagination.

* * *

><p><strong>ii.<strong>

She wouldn't be Santana Lopez if she wouldn't find a way to pay back.

And that's how she found herself on the way to 'Scandals' some days later, her feet sticking in some intimidatingly high heels and a smoothing red dress, that did its job perfectly. Leaving a gay guy breathless had been on her bucket list anyways and if not now, when then?

(She knew it was just an excuse. She just wanted to play a little.)

The moment he saw her he knew it was over.

Holy shit, what was she doing here in that dress and those shoes and did her legs end somewhere?

Seeing Santana in a gay bar even left him speechless for a second.

But then second was over and he smirked his trademark smirk, handing her over a beer bottle. He felt that feeling come back, that _sligh_t sexual frustration, but he ignored it, because that wasn't the plan and Sebastian doesn't leave the path. He just doesn't.

"Wrong bar?"

"I was just about to ask you that."

"Oh, why that? There are plenty of guys here to satisfy _me_, but I don't see one that plays for your team."

"Your eyes attached to my boobs tell a different story."

He almost felt caught, but then he remembers that he didn't do labels and well, it wasn't his fault her boobs practically popped into his eyes. He wasn't the one to deny a beautiful view when he crossed it.

Suddenly it was her turn to smirk when she mouthed the words to the song playing, slowly turning around and leaving him just enough time to let his eyes slid over her body.

_You notice what I'm wearing, I noticin' you're staring._

But she wasn't about to win this game, he decided, not as long as he was the enemy. And so he followed her on the dance floor, grabbing her moving body by the hips and pulling her closer; she didn't stop moving, instead grinding her hips into his and hell, where did she learn to move like this?

He can't remember a time where a girl had an effect like this on him.

And from then on everything was just blurry. He felt her turn around. Can't resist the urge to smash his lips onto her, angrily and aggressively, because who was she to just show up in a gay bar and move like this and make him question all this stuff? Felt her putting forcing behind it as her tongue slips into his mouth. Her hip grinding into his. It's hot, it's heavy, it's angry and passionate.

It's everything it wasn't supposed to be.

Santana didn't understand what's going on, but at some point she stops thinking about it, about her sexuality, the place, her girlfriend, all that captured her mind was his tongue fighting with hers and their bodies moving in direction of the bathroom, his hands gripping her dress dangerously tight.

That night they add themselves on the long list of people that already got it on in the bathroom of "Scandals".

"That was a one night fuck, Smythe, do you understand me? Not more and not less."

She told him that later when they already stand on the parking lot, nearly 3 am in the morning. It wasn't more, not for her and not for him, they both know that. Santana brought the picture of a certain laughing blonde in her mind and while she almost felt guilty, the sight of the actual Sebastian Smythe in front of her eyes made that picture go away soon, leaving her confused and angry.

"What are you gonna tell that little girlfriend of yours?", he asked back with a smirk in this sly voice of his, as if he read her mind. She turns around and glares at him, even more angry that he brought Brittany into this.

"Leave her out of this!", she almost yelled at him

"The way you screamed my name tonight, it doesn't seem like she really does it for you."

"A smile of hers does it more for me than your dick."

"Getting defensive, Lopez?"

"Just leave it. This was it, clear? A one night fuck, like I said. What I have with Britt is far more worth than this."

"And that's why you cheated on her or what?"

She cheated, it hit her. It's not the first time she cheated on people, but it irked her, because Brittany isn't people. But tonight … that was something else, something purely physical to satisfy herself the way she hadn't been satisfied in quite a while now. It wasn't cheating if there are no feelings involved, right?

It didn't matter anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>iii.<strong>

She just couldn't get it out of her head.

It annoyed the fuck outta her to be honest. Especially when he suddenly showed up at McKinley, shamelessly flirting with Blaine while his eyes found hers more than once.

She placed herself on Brittany's lap extra obviously, getting as close to the blonde as possible. She felt her hands stroking her hair and she immediately relaxed a little, though her own hands still tensely gripped the fabric of the cheerio uniform.

It was like a competition on who could convince the other better that it didn't happen.

She went after him that day, followed him through the halls of McKinley until finally grabbing his wrist and dragging him into the janitor's closet - not an unfamiliar place for Santana.

"' The fuck was this?", she snarled at him.

Even in the dim light of the messy room she saw his fucking little meerkat face light up a little, smirking. "Just paying a little visit to McKinley."

"You're an asshole."

"That's the best you got, sweetheart?"

She wanted to do something between fucking him hard and shoving him down a cliff.

She settled for tightening her ponytail and leaving him behind in the janitor's closet, her head high and her ass swaying exactly the way that he's gonna stare and wonder and be sexually frustrated.

At least that's how she imagined it to be.

The sad truth was (and she could still beat herself up for it) was that suddenly their lips were attached just like the last night, all the passion coming back. If anything this was even worse, him biting her lower lip as his hands find his way under the skirt of the cheer uniform and her zipping his jeans off in hurry, because she _needed_ this like she needed air.

She was craving the satisfaction only he could give her and she hated herself for it.

* * *

><p><strong>iiii.<strong>

He couldn't figure out what it was about her, that drove him so insane.

No girl ever drove Sebastian insane. Hell, not even guys drove him insane, but now he sat here; wondering about the lesbian Latina that is in a relationship yet fucked him harder than he's been in a long time just two days ago.

He couldn't stand her, honestly, hated her even.

His hatred for her even distracted him from Warbler rehearsals.

"Dude you just missed your entry again, what's going on?"

He turned around and glared at the other Warbler, his lips pursed. Nothing was going on.

"I'm fine", he snapped and got ready once again, the same tunes starting again.

It would be her to mess it up again. Of course.

What did you expect?

"Smythe!"

It could be described as bark, but then again it was Santana Lopez and she didn't bark. She demanded.

He liked that she cracked first after their phenomenal fuck in the janitor's closet - after just two days even.

"Ms Lopez, I must say- …"

"Wes, shut your mouth, I didn't demand you, I need the other _Warbler captain._"

Her voice was full of bitter irony.

"You need me, Santana?", he instead answered and stepped a step forward, revealing himself in the crowd of confused Warblers.

She gripped his tie and dragged him out before he even could say 'Fuck'.

"If you ever show up at McKinley again, you will regret ever being born, are we clear, gay face?"

"Gay face? Ouch, that hurt."

"I'm serious. You will not mess with my boys or I will mess with your face."

He let out a surprised 'huh'. With her boys?

"That's why you're here? To tell me not to mess with Blaine and Kurt? Oh c'mon, you can do better than that."

"Just … don't."

"You make it sound like that's actually possible", he answered rolling his eyes, not revealing that some nights ago his priories changed a little more than lot and he had no intentions on breaking up Blaine and Kurt. Sure, he still wanted to fuck Blaine against a wall, but there are so much more interesting people to spend your time with.

Suddenly he heard her laugh. Quietly and just a little, dark and sarcastic, but he doesn't think he heard her actually laugh before.

"The fucking is over", she firmly told him then, but let's get honest here.

They totally did it later that night.

* * *

><p><strong>v<strong>_**.**_

Santana started avoiding Brittany.

She was slowly losing control over this and if there's one thing Santana Lopez couldn't stand (aside from Sebastian Smythe), it's losing control. Okay, but how was it her fault that she wanted to jump his bones every time she just thought of him. That she didn't understand why.

She had just accepted that she's lesbian. Just accepted who she is and now it's different again? That can't be it, she thought. She refused to believe that she has yet to change again, because that just wasn't fair! Everyone knew what they were, including her. A lesbian. A proud and fierce woman that liked woman.

Right?

She wanted to punch a wall to let all the frustration out that she felt ever since she met him.

* * *

><p><strong>vi.<strong>

At one point he started texting her, just to mess with her head a little.

He wouldn't admit it messed with his head, too.

Yeah, no labels, he thought. That's what he told himself, but it was still awful. He had never ever had a doubt about his sexuality. Gay. Gay, gay gay. He's kissed numerous girls and guys before, but only the guys ever had an effect on him. And then _she_ had to come.

She with her short dresses and soft boobs and fierce hands and long legs and ugh, it annoyed the hell outta him.

He thinks what might've annoyed him the most was the fact that she even was on his mind when she wasn't there.

"_Dude, stop texting me. Where did you get my number anyways?"_

He smirked when she texted back.

"_I have my resources."_

_"Oh, mystical. Now get off my phone display."_

_"How about a little meeting up in Lima Bean?"_

_"The bathroom there is too small, it's uncomfortable. You should know that, Smythe."_

_"I thought we were done with fucking, princess?"_

_"What about the cinema?"_

* * *

><p><strong>vii.<strong>

Their game got riskier with every day; every hickey he placed somewhere she barely could hid it; every time she canceled a date with Brittany, because she couldn't even look her straight in the eyes.

Santana felt like she was back at the start. Confused and alone, but this time it was different. This time there was no clear direction. Last time, if she wasn't straight, she was lesbian.

But what was she now?

Ultimately, Holly Holliday said, it was about who you fall in love with, not who you're attracted to.

But even that makes it complicated, 'cause was she in love with Brittany? There was no question wether or not she loved Brittany, because she did, so much. She loved her best friend, but was she in love with her? What if it had been an imagination, because it felt right to fall in love with your best friend, the one person that knows you better than anybody else, even if that person was a girl. It felt right to be in love with the girl she had been attracted to ever since they first met. But it also felt right to be with Sebastian, in a twisted weird way that was so wrong she didn't even wanna think about it.

And ultimately, if she was in love with Brittany, why did she … cheat in first place? She had been so convinced that Brittany wasn't in love with Artie when she cheated on him with her, didn't it make her a hypocrite to think she was in love with Brittany while she cheated on her with Sebastian?

Her head hurt from all the thinking about stuff she shouldn't think about, because why did she question it all? What she had with Sebastian was purely physical, not even close to anything that could even be considered having a crush.

Her hands shaking she took her phone frustrated and texted Brittany. Sebastian could go to hell, because Brittany was so much better than him and his smirk and his body and his dick; Brittany was a girl, not only a girl, but _her girl_ and her girl could satisfy her better than any man could. Right?

"_Britts, you wanna come over? **:"_

The reply didn't take long, a little less than a minute.

_"I'll be over in ten. I will bring my 'So Little Ponies' dvds, okay? :)"_

Santana waited impatiently and when finally the door rang and she jumped up, anxious to prove herself right.

Before the beaming blonde could even say something, Santana crushed her lips on Brittany's, fiercely and almost desperate.

(She hated it how she was disappointed that Britt didn't taste like coffee, but strawberries.)

She felt her reacting, surprised but still reacting. But it's so different, so soft. Her hands caress her hair while Santana makes her way down Brittany's body, almost afraid to push her on the couch, because she's so soft. She's never felt like this before while sleeping with Brittany; she's not sure if she likes it or maybe she's just not used to it anymore.

They slept together and Santana felt safe and warm with Brittany's arms around her, but she felt desperate, too. Desperate to feel more than that, to feel burning heat and real satisfaction and _love_, so much love for Brittany just like all those people always describe it.

They're a couple. They're in love, but even though Santana was clawing for that feeling she had just months ago, it was slipping through her fingers, leaving her empty.

"I'm sorry, Britts", she whispered, but the blonde already slept.

* * *

><p><strong>viii.<strong>

It changed.

That thing between them, it changed. Somehow. They still fuck. Of course.

But they talk now. It could almost be counted as dates if they didn't know better, if they didn't both know that as soon as the lights went out or the people didn't look or the Warblers left the house they would be just where they always are. In each other's pants.

It irked him. The fact that he enjoyed talking to her irked him, because that wasn't supposed to happen. That wasn't the plan.

Sebastian Smythe never left the path.

* * *

><p><strong>ix.<strong>

"There is a new movie in the cinema with that guy you like so much."

She groaned and slipped her hand out of her panties. "You're not half as good on the phone as in real life."

She heard him laugh on the other side of the line and rolled her eyes. "I'm serious."

"So am I", she answered and stood up, searching for something to put on and finding Brittany's top that she left last night. It hurt her heart, made her feel guilty, because Britt didn't suspect anything while she sat there trying phone sex with a _guy_.

"Did you even hear me, San?"

"I'm not going to the cinema with you."

"It'll be dark. Imagine it … last row … no lights on … the film in the background … your back pressed into one of those-…"

"I get it", she said and threw the shirt back into one of the corners in her room, instead just pulling on an old dress, smoothing it. "When is the movie on?"

She practically heard him smirk over the phone. "See you tomorrow, _sweetheart_."

* * *

><p><strong>x. <strong>

They met at ten a.m. in front of the Lima cinema.

She wore a smooth black dress that bounced up and down, and short black boots, her hair curled up and pinned back.

She looked so damn good.

So he put a good face on the matter and greeted her with a firm kiss on her cheek, causing them to heat up and even blush, he would say.

"Just get your pretty ass into the cinema, 'cause I want to get my good on."

She answered cooly and controlled, but her breath was already irregular and even he could hear that he was doing _something_ right.

As soon as the lights go out he felt the tension again, like the first day, like they're back singing about smooth criminals.

And as smoothly as the criminal they sang about his lips found their ways to hers, then down her collarbone, drawing a fine line of little red marks before she pushed him away.

"This time it's not as easy", he heard her whisper, her voice raspy and low, "Now you're playing _my_ game."

Despite her hands still keeping him away from her, he felt the shiver, the turn on. That girl was going to be the death of him.

"Oh please", he answered easily and smirked, "You want me bad, Lopez."

He saw her smirking back, her black hair framing her face. "Not bad enough to lose my game. Santana Lopez is a winner and she will stay a winner."

She doesn't need to explain the game; Sebastian was a master at it.

And he doesn't break the rules, not until afterwards anyways.

"That was the worst movie I have seen in a while", he told her, but she laughed and slapped his shoulder - harder than playfully, but this was Santana, so what did you expect?

"It wasn't. It was good."

"You expect me to believe you noticed anything of the movie while sitting next to me?"

She smirked. "I could ask you the same."

And he got that feeling again, of wanting her, needing her even, but differently. So he grabbed her wrist and firmly turned her around, pressing her back against the wall of a house now.

"Already about to lose?", she asked him, but breathlessly and heated up and hell, she wanted him just as much.

"Nobody ever said kissing wasn't okay", he answered and captured her mouth with his, hungrily responding to her.

It was just the split of a moment when he questioned wether or not winning was worth it, but then the moment was over and all that was on his mind were Santana's lips and her tongue and her hips grinding into his, damn, her hands in his hair. His hands on the wall, framing her slim body, pressed against his.

Suddenly she laughed into his mouth and pulled him closer, her hands a tight grip on his neck now. It wasn't angry. Not nearly as much as it should, instead it was hungry and even more passionate, because they knew they were breaking rules. They knew they couldn't go all the way and that made it even better.

Little did they know they were watched from the other side of the street by a certain Kurt Hummel.

* * *

><p><strong>xi.<strong>

"Kurt, are you sure you didn't just confuse a normal couple that maybe looked a little similar to them _with_ them?"

"I'm telling you, Blaine, it was them! Santana Lopez and Sebastian Smythe, in flesh and blood."

"That doesn't make sense. He's gay and she's lesbian, not to mention in a relationship with Brittany."

"You should've seen them!"

"But Kurt …"

"It was them. You know what was the weirdest? That they genuinely seemed to enjoy it!"

"But why would they? Why would Sebastian go after Santana? What's his intentions?"

"The better question, my dear, is why would Santana let him?"

* * *

><p><strong>xii.<strong>

She convinced them to invite the Warblers, just for fun. To intimidate them a little before Regionals.

(Of course that's not the real reason, but she can't exactly tell them that she really needs to win that fucking game by now.)

It really turned out to be fun though. Even Berry played along as they planned their performance. It was so obvious that she and Frankenteen got it on, seriously.

The night of their little performance she's almost nervous; but then she remembered it's _Sebastian_.

She was so glad Brittany is away with her family.

"Are you ready, Santana?"

She smirked at the tinier brunette and nodded. "Let's heat the Warbler boys up, Berry."

Surprisingly she smirks back and nods. "Britney Spears rarely fails." Santana almost wished Rachel would stop her from doing this, doing something as stupid as this. For the guy that wasn't her girlfriend.

She was aware on how ironic it was that she chose exactly that song.

_I can't take it take it take no more_

_never felt like felt like this before_

_C'mon get me, get me on the floor_

Holy mother of god.

And suddenly _he_ was painfully aware that he hasn't seen her in weeks and damn, those hips. Why couldn't guys do that? He would have much less of a problem now if they did.

But shit, shit, shit. The Warblers were here and so was that little group of hers. But that _girl_ was going to be the death of him if she didn't stop move like that and-…

Oh. That was a short dress.

He wasn't exactly impressed. Just slightly desperate. He hadn't gotten any (good) in over a week and he was not used to that.

So as soon as the song ends and he felt like he was very close to losing it, he jumped up and hurried, slipping behind the curtain and into the dress room, finding Santana already waiting with a smirk on her face.

"I told you I'd win this game", she told him, but he was too busy pinning her against a wall to answer.

"That wasn't fair", he scowled between ripping off her dress and covering her bare skin with his mouth as much as he could, hungry inhaling her scent, "I hate you, honestly, I hate you."

"All is fair in war and bed", she groaned back and tightened her grip in his hair, pressing her body closer to him.

Suddenly they heard steps coming closer, quickly breaking apart.

"Hard to believe we've never been caught before", she mumbled and slipped on the black dress again, smoothing it. Then she came closer and he almost thought she'd give in when two things happened at the same time.

The door opened and Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson curiously peeked in.

Santana Lopez slapped him. Hard. Full on.

* * *

><p><strong>xiii.<strong>

"That was a damn close thing back at McKinley"

She actually sounded upset later that night as she sat on his desk chair in only his over-sized Dalton shirt, something she lazily threw on after barely enough catching up rounds in the most different positions. Legs crossed and flushed cheeks, she almost looked … beautiful.

But she wasn't beautiful, because you don't call your fuckbuddy beautiful, especially if that fuckbuddy was a bitch like Santana Lopez.

He gave up on the argument of being gay long ago.

He was fine with being bi. So, maybe some girls had an effect on him, too. Well, one girl. Whatever.

It gave him a bigger range to chose from, right?

"Ah, why do think so? You delivered the slap so well."

Her lips twitched into a short grin before she stood up and started looking for her pants. "Everything to seem authentic."

"You enjoyed it."

"More than you would know."

She slipped on her pants and turned around, grabbing her bag. But before she could leave, he already had her grabbed by the waist, his lips on hers once again.

She almost smiled into the kiss; but then she pulled away, because she needed to go before she did something dumb.

"You still have my shirt on, San!", he called after her, but she smirked, swayed her ass and kept going - in his shirt.

It would've been a good night. Really.

But of course, why would the universe let Santana Lopez have a good night?

"Well, well. Who do I spot there? Is that Ms. Santana Lopez?"

And there stood Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson.

* * *

><p><strong>xv.<strong>

"I can't believe this!"

Kurt said it, again and again, as if he was convinced that if he said it often enough it would magically not have happened.

Santana felt like throwing up at all this.

They had been caught. No, _she_ had been caught. Leaving _his_ house in _his_ fucking shirt and hair with which she could as well have worn a banter saying "I just fucked!", running immediately into Kurt and Blaine.

(How could she possibly have known that they were spying on her and Sebastian?)

"Not only you meet up with the enemy all the time behind our backs; you cheated on Brittany, too. And worst of all, Santana, you're completely betraying yourself. What you're doing is-…"

"Kurt…"

"No, Blaine! She's lesbian! We've just spend a whole lot of time helping her to accept that freaking fact and helping her accepting herself and now she's doing _this!_ It's ridiculous and frankly it's rude, too.

"And you!", angrily he turned around to face Sebastian, who looked tense as trying to look unimpressed, "You're such a hypocrite, you know that? You couldn't get me and Blaine to break up, so now you want to try it with Brittany and Santana? And you're not much better either when it comes to betraying yourself. You're gay, remember? That's where you like boys and not girls. But oh snap, this isn't about liking Santana anyways, is it? This is just about … about …"

"Shut up, Kurt. Just shut your fucking mouth."

It surprised her how _majorly _pissed off Sebastian sounded. Usually he didn't get impressed when it came to Kurt. Bored even. It wasn't a secret that they fucking hated each other, but he never lose the mask over it.

"How would you know anything about this?", he asked with in a bitter tone, shaking his head, "You don't. You don't know a fucking thing about all this stuff, no fucking idea, so stop judging your little ass away, okay?"

She felt as if her head was going to explode if they kept talking like that.

"No, Smythe, do not turn this on me! You're gay, she's lesbian, …"

"Stop!"

He never heard her so desperate - not in that way anyways - and for some weird reason he more worried about her now than himself. He was bitter about this and Kurt judging them so much, but he knew that for her this was harder. He never did labels. For her, labels meant security, even if she'd never admit that.

"No, Santana. So how does this benefit for you? Do you feel normal now doing whatever you do with Mr Meerkat face? Do you-…"

"No, Kurt, I don't feel normal! Honestly, I feel as abnormal as it's possible and you know why? Because from the first moment on, people told me it was either that or that. Either I was straight or a lesbian, either it was black or white. And now? Now I'm stuck somewhere on the shade of grey, not knowing what I am. It doesn't make me feel normal. I hope this answered your question, Kurt. I don't run around fucking Sebastian to make myself feel normal. Honestly, I don't know why I'm doing this. Maybe I like him. Maybe he's much easier to be around sometimes than certain other people. I have no fucking idea. But I know one thing; it's _none_ of your business."

And for probably the first time since he ever met Kurt, he was speechless.

Not that he cared. Instead he made his way to Santana and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. He didn't really think about it, he just did it. Why? He had no idea. He felt her arms wrap around his waist and her face in chest, sobbing very quietly, but as loud as her pride would allow.

"Just leave", he told Kurt through gritted teeth, glaring him down until he gave in and left the room, dragging Blaine behind.

They stood there for a while. Confused probably. Angry, but not like usually. She was angry in a sad way.

It bothered him so much, to see her like this.

"I … I should probably leave …"

He wanted to punch Kurt for making her this miserable.

"No, Santana", he called her and she turned around, her eyes shifting, "Just … just stay here. I can sleep on the couch and you get the bed, just don't leave. I don't think you're able to drive in that condition anyways."

It was a lame joke and it earned him a glare, but at least she looked up now.

"Okay, fine."

She wanted to snap, but it came out as tired.

He doesn't sleep on the couch. Instead he crawls onto the bed and wraps his arms around her as if to keep her warm. Usually she's so intimidating, so tough, so better-than-everybody-else; but now she's tiny, like she needs to grow again.

He wondered when she became more than a fuckbuddy to him and he could punch himself for letting it come that far too.

Unfortunately, he realizes, Sebastian Smythe left the path for the first time he can remember and it doesn't seem like there's a way back. (Shit.)

* * *

><p><strong>xvi.<strong>

She thought about leaving quietly when she woke up the next day.

But she didn't.

Instead she closed her eyes again and crawled back into his arms, sleeping a little longer.

* * *

><p><strong>xvii.<strong>

Things for Santana change.

She finds her peace in breaking up with Brittany. It was sad and tearful, but it was good for them. It turned things into the way they were supposed to be again. Santana knew she will forever love Brittany, but sometimes you fall out of love and eventually she learns that it's okay if that happens.

It takes them some time but they wind up being best friends again before college begins. Because honestly, who can live without their best friend?

Sebastian and her take their time, too. Their talks get longer, their kisses softer and at some point she starts taking his hand occasionally. The Glee clubs comes to peace with the fact that at some point it became inevitable for them to get together.

Santana and Kurt talk it out. She still doesn't understand his issue, but he gets over it and so does she. She learns to forgive herself for being stuck in the middle, to accept herself again and she learns to forgive other people, too.

Maybe the middle isn't such a bad place at all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: How did you like it? I have an explanation for Kurt, if anyone wants to hear it. Anyways, review away! :D - Janni**


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